


What's the Big Whoop?

by LiamsDarlin



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Illness, Sickfic, Sickness, Whooping cough, pertussis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-27 03:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiamsDarlin/pseuds/LiamsDarlin





	1. Chapter 1

The weather was changing, the air getting colder and the leaves starting to change colors. It was not a surprise when Loghan woke up in the morning with a mild pressure in her head and a scratchiness in her throat. She sat up, trying to clear her throat only to be thrown into a fit of dry, annoying coughs. Sitting there for a moment, she let her dizziness fade away while she listed her symptoms. They were nothing major, a slight headache, runny nose, and persistent scratchiness with the occasional cough. She would live.

She got up just the same, taking a long, steamy shower to break up the congestion in her sinuses. Every now and then, she let out a series of dry, hacking cough but the fit always resolved as fast as it started. She made a mental note to grab a box of cold meds after work that evening.

She went about her day just as any other day. She went to her two classes that morning, then hopped on the bus to head straight to work. Her cough picked up a little throughout the day, with a couple wet sneezes sprinkled in between, but she was still feeling pretty okay. In the end, she was able to hide it very well and no one gave her a second glance.

The next two days were the same. She woke up with a sinus headache, scratchy throat, and dry coughs. Each morning they were a bit more painful and nagging, but she brushed it off. Today was Friday, and she had the weekend to sleep in and recover before she had to go into work in the afternoon.

And, since it was Friday, it was date night. She was heading over to Benson’s right after school to order pizza and watch a movie. It was her favorite day of the week.

Throughout her classes, her cough was growing more painful. She coughed into her elbow, gasping for air in between the fits and wiping away the tears that sprang to her eyes. Her chest clenched with each cough and it was starting to hurt. She popped a couple DayQuil, washing them down with the hot tea she purchased from the café just before class. The hot liquid soothed her throat and she let out a sigh.

Finally, it was 4 o’ clock, and she grabbed her bag and left the class. She started walking to the bus stop, but had to stop halfway and catch her breath.

_What was_ that _about_? She furrowed her brow, gasping for air to fill her lungs. Most days, she could run for five miles without a second thought. But now, the quarter-mile walk to the bus stop but leaving her gasping.

The bus was approaching, and she pushed the thought to the back of her mind, speed-walking to the stop and hopping on the bus just in time. Collapsing into the seat, she gulped in air, succumbing to a coughing fit that left her breathless and breathing raggedly.

_It’s just a cold,_ she reminded herself, pulling the strings of her sweatshirts tighter and settling back against the seat.

 

Loghan had dozed off, but she woke up just in time to clamber off the bus in front of Benson’s apartments. She climbed the stairs to the third floor, fighting for air. She hoped he couldn’t hear her awful panting, and she stopped a little way from his door to compose herself.

“Hello, sweetheart!” Benson opened the door after only her first knock, pulling her against his chest. “I’ve missed you.”

Loghan let out a breathy laugh and rested her head against his chest. “I’ve missed you too.”

He led her inside and they sat down together on the couch with his laptop on the coffee table.

“Okay, tell me about your week and then we will decide what to watch, deal?”

Loghan opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a hacking cough. She quickly covered with her sleeve, riding out the fit. Benson was surprised at first, but quickly recovered and began rubbing her back until the fit tapered off.

“Are you alright, love?” He asked, continuing to rub her back even after she was finished.

Loghan nodded. “It’s just a cold. Came on a couple days ago, I’ll be okay,” She smiled and leaned against his shoulder.

Benson accepted her answer, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

They ordered a large pizza and settled for watching The Blind Side. Loghan did her best to suppress her insistent coughing, even excusing herself into the bathroom halfway through the movie to cough in peace. Benson watched her intently, rubbing her back or offering her a tissue when she made her classic pre-sneeze face. All in all, she was starting to feel miserable.

After the movie was over, she was drowsy, but she couldn’t stay overnight.

“Do you want a ride home?” Benson asked after she refused his offer to sleep over.

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as a shiver ran up her spine.

“Are you cold?” He asked, pulling her against himself. She nodded again, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes.

“Hmm…” He pressed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “You’re a little warm. Let’s get you home so you can rest.”

Loghan nodded again, coughing weakly and grabbing her bag.

After a couple days, she would be fine.

 

She wasn’t fine after a couple days. Not three days, not even four. It had been over a week since she had first woken up sick, and she was now feeling absolutely _miserable._ Every morning, she woke up with spasms in her chest and she would cough and cough and _cough_ until there was no air left in her lungs. Gasping, she would try to inhale, to draw air into her ragged lungs. Her fits were lasting longer and longer, followed by wheezing that was high-pitched sounding and made her wince. All her energy was being sapped from the coughing. She could not concentrate in class and her professors had sent her home from class the previous day, telling her to go see a doctor and find out what was going on. Work had also sent her home and told her to come back Monday.

It was Friday now, and even though she was desperate for sleep, she wanted to see Benson even more desperately. She wrapped a scarf around her neck, using it to muffle the coughs that kept rattling her chest. As she went to leave the dorm, she doubled over in a coughing fit that had her grabbing onto the door frame, sucking all the air out of her lungs. It _hurt_ so _much_. Tears started to stream down her face as she fought to breathe. In a panic, she realized she couldn’t catch her breath, standing with her mouth open and trying to inhale. Finally, her lungs opened and she gasped with a high-pitched whooping sound.

Taking a few minutes to just focus on breathing, she finally filled her lungs and they stopped hurting for a minute.

The walk to the bus stop was torturous. Sure, she could have called Benson and asked for a ride, but she was not about to inconvenience him. She was a big girl, she could take the bus, but dammit, if she could only _breathe_! She had to take several stops, gasping in between harsh fits and whooping. She had a feeling this wasn’t just a cold anymore.

_Of course it’s just a cold. Stop over-reacting._

She got several glances and glares on the bus, but she did her best to ignore them. She was covering her nose and mouth with her scarf, which was now wet with spit and snot. Her nose was running like a faucet but it was too raw to rub at.

When she got to the apartments, she stared at the stairs for a good while before gathering up the courage to face the daunting task in front of her. Every flight left her gasping and wheezing, and she stopped to hack into her scarf.

It was no surprise when Benson was out of the apartment and staring at her as she made it to the top of the last flight.

“H-hey,” Loghan wheezed, trying to suppress a fit and failing. She coughed harshly into the scarf, holding onto the railing as she bent at the waist. She gasped, wincing as her lungs made that awful whooping sound again.

“Okay, that is hands down the scariest coughing fit I have ever heard,” Benson said, his tone coated with concern. He placed a hand on her back and led her into the apartment, setting her down on the couch. He placed a hand on her forehead.

“You’re not warm,” He muttered, scratching his head.

“’m fine,” Loghan rasped, wincing at how rough her voice sounded.

“Okay, you are not fine!” Benson retorted. “Don’t try to say you are.”

“Just a cold…” Loghan sniffled, letting out a couple more ragged coughs.

“You said it was just a cold that week! Now look at you; you’re worse!” He grabbed his phone, pacing back and forth in front of her. “Why didn’t you call me? You went to school like this? Work?”

Loghan shifted her gaze. “No.”

“You actually called in for once?”

“Well…” She coughed again, pulling the scarf over her mouth. “Not exactly.”

“Loghan.” Benson looked at her, shaking his head.

She shrugged. “They sent me home.”

He threw his hands up, still clutching his phone. “And you didn’t call me _because_?”

She shrugged again. She tried to answer, but her words were stolen by an ever harsher, rapid fit filled with dry, painful coughs. Benson was beside her in a second, rubbing her back with one hand while he grabbed her hand with the other. She clenched his fingers so tight her knuckles turned white. She tried to inhale, but only let out high-pitched whoops follows by more painful coughing. It lasted about a minute, and by the end of it she was seeing black dots in her vision, gulping in mouthfuls of air as she slumped against Benson’s chest.

“Okay, you’re going to the doctor,” Benson shifted his positon, still letting her lean against him as he tapped on his phone.

She was curious as to what he was looking up, but she was too tired to speak. Her voice was shot.

“Loghan?” He asked.

She glanced up, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Have you gotten your T-Dap shot?”

She shrugged, sleep starting to tug on her.

He shook her awake. “Loghan, wake up!”

Her eyes shot open and she let out a sigh. “I don’t know…”

Benson peeled her off of him, holding her up so he could look at her in the eyes. She sat a little straighter, frightened by the urgency in his movements and the worry in his eyes.

“Loghan, I think you have Whooping cough,” Benson spoke slowly, picking his words carefully.

“Don’t you get that vaccine when you’re a kid?” Loghan asked, her voice just barely a whisper. She let out a couple weak coughs.

“Yes,” Benson replied, not letting his gaze leave hers. “But not everyone is vaccinated.”

Loghan recoiled a bit. “Are you?”

Benson chuckled a little. “Yes, don’t worry.”

She relaxed a little, but was still confused. “I should be vaccinated then.”

“Do you have your records?”

Loghan frowned. No, she didn’t. She hadn’t been to a doctor in years, and she had no idea where her medical records were. But her dad always told the school that her vaccinations her up to date.

He wouldn’t lie about that.

Would he?

Her chest got tight. Her breathing increased, her nostrils flaring as she tried to push air into her lungs. She was starting to panic. It felt like someone was squeezing her lungs, twisting them tighter and tighter…

“Loghan, breathe, you’re okay,” Benson’s tone was soft but firm, but it felt so far away. It was like her ears were full of cotton. He said something else but she couldn’t hear him.

Her throat was clenching, and soon a fit erupted from her chest. It felt like it was clawing up her throat, each cough grating the back of her throat. Her head rested on Benson’s shoulder, her whole body shaking with the effort it took just to cough. Every few coughs she would wheeze and whoop before being thrown back into more body-wracking hacking. It was longer than any of the other ones and her lips were starting to turn blue from the lack of oxygen.

Benson was at a loss as to what to do. He rubbed his hands in circular motions on her back, just keeping a hold on her to make sure she didn’t slip away.

Suddenly, the coughing turned to gagging. She was panicking, the coughing causing her stomach to convulse and soon she had bile dangling from her lip. Benson turned her, helping her put her head between her legs.

The fit had a strong grip on her. She had blood speckled on her hands from the back of her throat. She would be coughing, then gagging, spitting up the little bit of food she had eaten onto the ground. It was wearing her down, leaving her with barely enough energy to even cough. She gasped, whooping, then gagged and vomited up a mouthful of tea and bile. Her whole body was shaking; Benson could feel it under the hand he had rested on her back. He kept an eye on the clock.

Five minutes. Five minutes of coughing and vomiting, leaving a puddle of bile on the floor in front of them. After letting out the last couple, dry, weak coughs, she slumped forward and he had to catch her before she fell off the couch.

“Whoa, there,” He picked her up, letting her body rest against his chest as he held her bridal style. She was limp as a ragdoll, passed out with her head lolled over on his shoulder.

Leaving the mess for later, he laid her down gently on the couch before going over to the counter and grabbing his wallet. He pulled a hoodie over his head, grabbing a blanket to cover Loghan’s unconscious form before wrapping her up and picking her back up into his arms. 

He locked the apartment door behind him, carrying her to the truck so he could take her to the emergency room.

 

Loghan blinked her eyes open, glancing around the hospital room. She did not remember how she got here, but she knew she was exhausted and her chest felt like someone had been hitting it with a hammer over and over again. It hurt just to breathe.

She shifted a bit, catching Benson’s attention. He put down the brochure he was reading (or just staring at) and turned toward her. He was smiling, but it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. He was worried. She could tell.

“Hey, love,” He leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“Hey,” She rasped, leaning into his lips. “Are we at the hospital?”

“Yeah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, pressing his forehead against hers. “Your lungs are essentially shredded.”

She winced. “I could of t-told you that.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn’t find it funny. He cupped her face, pulling his head back to look her in the eyes.

“Honestly, how long have you felt sick?” He asked. The intensity in his eyes made her tell the truth.

“Maybe a couple weeks.” She admitted. “I had a bit of a headache and a scratchy throat, but it was nothing tea and honey didn’t fix.” She told him honestly. She hadn’t thought anything of it. She thought it was just from stress.

He leaned back in his chair, letting his hands rest in his lap. “Well, it definitely Pertussis, or Whooping Cough. They prescribed antibiotics, but they don’t think it’s going to do much good…” He took a deep breath. “The damage is already done. The chest x-ray looks like crap.”

“It does?” She whispered, turning her head to cough into the pillow. “How bad?”

“The doctor says that when you threw up, you inhaled fluid into your lungs,” Benson pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously trying not to break down in front of her. “They are trying to stop it from turning into pneumonia, but your lungs are already so bad off.”

Pneumonia. People died from that, didn’t they?

She reached her hand out for him, needing something to hold onto. He grabbed onto it in an instant, giving it a squeeze.

“Now what?” She murmured, trying to keep her chest from closing in, even though it felt like there was something wrapping around her ribs.

“They’re prescribing you some strong antibiotics, and sending you home with a doctor’s note,” Benson tilted her chin to look him straight in the eyes. “Listen to me. They are making you take two weeks off. _Two weeks_. No school and no work. Got it?”

“But—“

“No “buts”! Do you realize how sick you are right now?!”

Loghan stuck out her bottom lip, but nodded anyway. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Benson echoed, mirroring her nod. “I’m going to make sure of it too, because you’re staying with me until you’re better.”

She opened her mouth to object, but he interrupted her. “Do not try and argue. You live with a girl who is never there. I am not going to let you be alone. I know you can take care of yourself, but right now, you really need to let someone do it for you.”

Giving in, she nodded. It was true; she felt like she had been hit by a truck. The time off was very much needed, but she hated being taken care of. It didn’t matter that it was Benson, just the thought of being weak and helpless made her feel defeated.


	2. Chapter 2

Loghan had been admitted around 7pm, and she didn’t get discharged until after midnight. Now, she was sitting in the front seat of his truck, her head leaning against the window while she waited for him to pick up her up prescriptions. The bright, illuminated sign in front of the store made her head hurt and she shut her eyes, pressing her forehead against the window.

After what felt like forever, he returned with a plastic bag stuffed full of supplies.

“Alright,” He said after he pulled the door shut, digging through the bag. “You have antibiotics, cough syrup, and an inhaler. Plus, I grabbed some tea, honey, Gatorade, lotion tissues, Vick’s vapor rub, and some cough drops!”

She gave him a smile, but it was half-hearted. At this point, all she wanted to do was go home. It was almost one in the morning, and every breath she took was excruciating. It was as if her lungs were protesting her being alive.

One particularly painful breath made her gasp in pain and she coughed harshly into her shoulder, high-pitched wheezes escaping with each exhale. Moaning, she leaned against the seat, pulling her knees up to her chest and covering her face with her hands.

“Here,” Benson had pulled the inhaler out, giving it a few shakes before handing it to her. “Exhale, then breath in the medicine when you push the plunger down.”

She grabbed it with trembling hands, feeling clumsier than normal as she fought to grip the plastic object. With a long, shaky exhale, she brought it up to her mouth and pushed the plunger down, feeling the medicine rush into her lungs. In an instant, it felt like her chest had opened up and she let out a sigh of relief.

“One more time,” Benson instructed and she repeated the process. Her chest opened up and breathing became less torturous.

“That’s so much better,” she breathed, handing the inhaler back so he could put it back in the bag. “Thank you.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His face was etched with worry as he put the trunk in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot.

Sometime during the twenty-minute drive back to Benson’s apartment, Loghan had fallen asleep with her cheek pressed against the window. She was only awoken when Benson shook her shoulder gently.

“We’re here. Do you need help getting out?” He asked, already opening his door to get out.

She shook her head.  With trembling hands, she unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed the door open, sliding off the seat and onto the pavement. The sudden change in position made black spots dance in front of her eyes, and she gripped tightly onto the door. Her chest tightened as another fit took hold, causing her to double over while still holding onto the door, coughing harshly toward the ground. Saliva dangled from her lip and she wiped it with her sleeve before standing upright.

Benson was already there, bag in hand, just watching her.

“Still sure you don’t need a hand?” He asked again, reaching his hand out.

Defeated, she took it and he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist to help support her while they made their way to the steps.

She was already dead on her feet, swaying ever so slightly and leaning into him to prevent herself from falling over. With a sigh, Benson handed her the bag. Before she had a chance to give him a confused look, he had scooped her up into his arms and started to ascend the steps.

“Hey!” She protested but didn’t have the strength to fight back. “I can do it.”

He didn’t respond, which took her off guard. She gave him a closer look, noticing the frustration and worry carved into his expression. His muscles were tense as he held her, only setting her down when he had to unlock the door.

He didn’t talk until she was sitting on the couch and he was wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. He kneeled down in front of her.

“You’re going to promise me something,” He said, tucking a stray piece of dark hair behind her ear.

“What?” Loghan ducked her head to cough a few times into the blanket, sniffling as her nose threatened to start dripping.

“If you need help, ask. If you’re not sure, ask anyway,”

Loghan opened her mouth to interrupt, but he put up a finger.

“I’m not done,” He told her. “If you feel worse, tell me. I don’t care what it is. You need to _tell_ me. The doctor told us to let him know if anything changes. Your lungs are shit right now, Loghan. Your chances of developing pneumonia or bronchitis, or hell, even _both_ are very high right now. So promise me. If you feel worse _at all_ , even the slightest change, you let me know.”

The silence dragged on. Tears were brimming his green eyes and he turned away, rubbing them with his sleeve.  He sniffed, then turned to her again.

“Okay? I mean… for fuck’s sake, Loghan. This is bad. Really bad. This _kills_ people, Loghan!”

“I know,” She finally responded, her voice small and meek. “Okay. I promise. I know. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

He sighed, standing up and sitting next to her on the couch. He pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry, I am… I’m just so worried about you. I just want you to get better.”

She nodded, nuzzling against his chest. “I just want to go to sleep,” She murmured, already feeling exhaustion tugging at her mind.

He kissed her head again, wrapping an arm under her legs and lifting her up. She didn’t protest this time as he carried her bridal-style into the bedroom.

She took her pills and cough syrup, then leaned back against the pillow as Benson tucked her in.

 

The next few days went like clockwork. Benson brought Loghan her medicine and helped her over to the living room so she could rest on the couch. He would leave for class, leaving her alone to watch Netflix. She would usually be asleep when he got home after 11:00. She would take another dose of medicine, change clothes, and crawl into bed. Repeat the next day.

Well, that got old real fast. It had been about a week, and she was feeling stronger and with that, extremely bored. Laying around all day was getting annoying.

Benson had settled her down on the couch, covering her with a blanket and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“I have to work tonight, but I’m off tomorrow night, so when I get done at class, we can just cuddle and watch movies all night, okay love?” He gave her a grin, grabbing his book bag from off the ground.

“That sounds amazing,” Loghan replied, reaching for the remote from the coffee table. “See you tonight, honey.”

After the door closed, she craned her neck to look out the window. She watched as he got into his truck and sped away. She waited about ten more minutes, then threw the blanket off and got up.

There was no way she was staying in this apartment for a fifth day in a row. She felt like she was getting sores on her butt from sitting down so much! Plus, she has no clean clothes and all her books were in her dorm. She could at least be studying if she couldn’t be at class.

She planned on just telling Benson that Natalie had dropped off her stuff. Her roommate would never, ever do her a favor in a million years, but Benson might just believe it.

Loghan took a quick shower, pulled her hair into a messy bun, and borrowed one of Benson’s flannel shirts.

A small coughing fit erupted from her lungs. They were becoming shorter and not as painful. They were more annoying than anything at this point. She coughed into her elbow, trying to clear the scratchiness in her throat. Her lungs gave a small spasm, then calmed down.

She grabbed her jacket and Benson’s spare key, and opened the door.

She was surprised by the cold air when she exited the apartment. It met her like a slap in the face and she inhaled sharply, which threw her into another fit. She sputtered momentarily, then composed herself and took a deep breath through her nose. She zipped up her thin jacket to her chin, then stuffed her hands in her pocket and headed toward the bus stop.

The ride to the school was uneventful. She took the long way to her dorm, avoiding walking past the coffee shops and hangout spots around campus. She didn’t know if Benson would be there or not, but she wanted to avoid any confrontation. Just in and out and back to the apartment before he suspected anything. Easy, right?

Loghan pulled her key out of her pocket, fumbling with the lock before finally pushing the door open. Looking around, it was obvious Natalie hadn’t been in for days. Her bed looked exactly the same as it did the morning Loghan was last there.

“Figures,” Loghan muttered, going over to her closet to thumb through her clothes. She stuffed her bag with clean clothes, making sure there was enough to get her through the next week. Next, she grabbed her books from her desk, sliding them into a backpack and slipping it over her shoulders.

At this point, she had to admit she was getting tired. She was starting to wheeze, which was concerning because she had been feeling just fine. She tried to clear her throat, but she started coughing, deep and painful just like a few days before. When she was able to catch her breath, her eyes were watering and she took a shaky inhale.

It was time to head back. She grabbed her bag and put it over her shoulder, her backpack slung over her other shoulder. The weight was dragging her down and she found she was moving much slower than before. Each step was work and her breathing was labored.

She was about halfway to the bus stop when the rain started coming down. She had to look up at the sky to believe this was actually happening to her. It started pouring and in just a few minutes she was drenched. The shivering started not long after, and she was ever grateful to sit underneath the awning as the bus stop, wrapping her arms around her middle as she tried to stop her teeth from chattering.

 

By the time she was in front apartment door, her hair was dripping and her knees were knocking together. Her chest felt heavy, like something was sitting on it, and she was hacking into her fist, her other hand clutching the key as she attempted to unlock the door. Her chest caved in with each cough, the sound coming from deep in her lungs.

Loghan finally managed to push the door open, throwing her stuff on the ground as she clutched the kitchen counter, wet coughs erupting from her chest out of her control. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears streamed down her face and _God_ she just wanted this to _stop!_ She couldn’t breathe, the coughing just would not let up. Her knuckles turned white from the grip she had on the counter and her legs started to shake, threatening to give out on her.

Finally, she was able to take in a gulp of air following by rapid panting as she tried to pull air into her chest. It hurt so fucking bad.

Loghan stood there for a minute, focusing on breathing in and out, in and out. When her head finally stopped spinning, she slowly made her way over to where Benson had her meds spread out. She grabbed the inhaler, giving it a good shake before taking in two puffs. Her chest opened up, but not enough. It felt like someone had a lung in each hand and was squeezing as hard as they could. The inhaler only loosened their grip.

She glanced at the clock. It was after two in the afternoon, which meant she had plenty of time to rest up before Benson was home from work. Letting out a sigh, she flopped down on the couch, pulling the blanket over her shaking form.

 

“Loghan?”

She burrowed her head deeper in the cushion, trying to block out whoever was talking.

“Sweetheart, wake up.”

She felt a hand shake her shoulder and she groaned, turning her head and blinking against the bright lights.

“What?” She rasped, closing her eyes again.

Benson sat down next to her, pulling the blanket away from her face. He brushed damp hair from her forehead, smoothing it against her head. His hand paused over her forehead, and he placed his palm against it. She leaned into his touch.

“Oh, shit!” Benson pressed three fingers to her cheek, biting his lip. “Loghan, seriously, wake up.”

She groaned again, but she opened her eyes and pushed herself up so she was leaning against the pillow. A series of wet coughs escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with a sleeved hand. She had just realized she was still wearing her jacket, which was still damp from the rain.

Benson pressed his palm against her forehead again, her brows furrowed as his green eyes searched her face.

“You’re burning up,” He shook his head. “I don’t understand. You were so much better this morning.”

“Mmm,” Loghan hummed, her body jolting forward the second he removed his hand. He caught her before she could slump forward, setting her gently back against the pillow.

“Loghan, are you wearing shoes?”

Her eyes snapped open. “What?”

Benson pulled the blanket up, revealing her feet which were still clad with her sneakers she had put in this morning. “Why are you wearing shoes?”

“My feet got cold,” She lied, turning to cough wetly into her elbow.

“Loghan Elaine!” Benson was pissed now. He jumped up, pulling the blanket off of her. “You’re wearing wet clothes! You fucking left, didn’t you?! You left and got stuck out there in the rain!”

“I didn’t have any clothes! Or my books!” She defended herself, but her voice was wrecked and lacked any of the power it needed to be effective in this argument. She paused to cough harshly, grabbing a tissue to spit out a wad of phlegm.

“So you just left your wet clothes on?” Benson threw his hands up in the air. “Why?”

This time, she ducked her head. She shrugged. “I was tired… I forgot.”

His expression softened a little. “Did you just pass out when you got home?”

Loghan nodded, letting out a couple weak coughs. “Yeah.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” He sighed, sitting back down on the couch. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

She shrugged again.

“Seriously. I could have gone to your dorm and brought your stuff.”

“I was bored of being here,” Her breath hitched, and she let out three congested sneezes, pulling her shirt over her nose to cover. She sniffled miserably as congestion started to settle in her head.

“Okay, well we need to change you out of these clothes and into something warmer before you get even worse,” He said, helping her off the couch. She coughed deeply, bringing up more crud from her lungs. Benson handed her a tissue and she spit out the dark green phlegm, wincing at how absolutely disgusting she must look and sound.

Once in warm clothes (sweats, long-sleeved tee, sweatshirt, and thick, wool socks), she curled up in the bed under the thick comforter, curling up on her side. She was still shivering.

Benson sat on the edge of the bed, popping a sheath onto the thermometer probe before sliding it into her ear. In a few seconds, it beeped.

“101.8,” He read out loud. “It’s high, but not too high. We can handle it.”

Loghan nodded, shivering as another chill climbed up her spine. She hacked up more phlegm and reached for a tissue.  

“I don’t like the sound of that cough, though,” He added, reaching over to stroke her cheek.

“Me neither,” She muttered, nestling under the covers.

“We’re going to go to Urgent Care in the morning. But for now, I want you to get some sleep,” He brushed her hair back, smiling to himself. She looked so cute, flushed cheeks buried underneath the blue comforter. If only she wasn’t so sick.

She hummed in response, her eyelids drooping. Her shoulders relaxed and he knew she had fallen asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

If only sleep would come easily. Loghan closed her eyes, the blankets pulled tight around her frame as she tried to seal in the warmth. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead, but chills were still wracking her body.

Every time she was about to drift off, her chest tightened and she was overcome by deep, hacking coughs that left her gasping for air. Benson would rub her back through each fit, woken up by the rough coughing. He would doze off, his hand resting gently on her back, while she took deep breaths trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.

Sometime close to 5AM, she was jolting up in the bed, one hand pressed against her chest while the other one shook Benson awake. Tears sprung to her eyes, the hacking tearing up her throat. She brought up bloody mucus as her chest convulsed. She gasped, gulping in air.

“Mmm,” Benson sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Are you okay?” He mumbled sleepily, his eyelids still droopy.

Loghan couldn’t talk. She had a hand pressed to the side of the ribs, her teeth clenched as she waited for the pain to subside. It didn’t. It was sharp and throbbing, and each inhale made it worse. The other hand held the wadded up tissue, wet from mucus and tinged with blood from her torn throat.

“Loghan?” He was waking up now, noticing how her eyes were squeezed shut, her jaw clenched. He sat up and rubbed her back, drawing circles between her shoulder blades. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Loghan slowly shook her head, letting out a whimper. She coughed again, hacking up another wad of bloody mucus and spitting it into the tissue. Benson turned pale at the sight.

Each cough made it feel like someone was stabbing her, right where she had her hand pressed against her ribs. She tried to take in a deep inhale, and ended up crying out in pain.

Benson sat upright, cupping her cheeks in his hands. He recoiled slightly at the tangible heat coming from her skin.

“What hurts?” He asked, lifting her face to meet her eyes.

She took in couple breathes, trying to find her voice again. “My chest,” She whispered, letting out a gasp as the pain shot through her again. “My ribs.”

“Here?” Benson put his hand over hers, where she was still holding onto the side of her ribcage. She nodded.

He gently moved her hand down, replacing it with his own. He palpated the area softly, but even the small prods had her gritting her teeth.

“Oh, love,” Benson worried his lip, shaking his head. “I think you cracked a rib.”

“What?” Loghan breathed, still panting harder than she should have been. Sweat was dripping down her forehead, leaving her hair matted against her forehead.

Benson pushed her hair back, his eyes soft with concern. “The coughing fit caused you to crack a rib, maybe two. It happens sometimes with chest infections.”

He excused himself for a moment, running into the bathroom and returning with the thermometer and a wet washcloth. He wiped the sweat from her face and neck; Loghan closed her eyes, holding the cloth against her face as the coolness relieved her flushed face.

With a quick warning, Benson slid the probe of the thermometer into her ear. After the beep, Loghan felt him stiffen beside her.

“What is it?” She croaked, letting out a couple strained coughs. She winced as pain shot through her ribs.

“103.7,” Benson read out-loud. He got off the bed, pulling on a sweatshirt and slipping on his sneakers.

“What are you going?”

Benson grabbed another one of his hoodies, and slipped it over her head. “We’re going to the ER.”

She didn’t even have a chance to argue, as another coughing fit wrapped itself around her lungs, squeezing the air out from her chest. Painful tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Benson rubbed her shoulders, waiting for the worse of it to pass before helping her stand up so they could head to the hospital.

 

Despite the incessant coughing, they were still left sitting in the waiting room for close to an hour. Loghan shifted uncomfortably in the armchair, pitching forward with each coughing fit. Benson placed a hand on her back, watching her with concerned green eyes, his brow furrowed with concern.

In triage, her fever had spiked to 104.1, yet they were still out here waiting.

Her breaths rattled in her ribcage, her mouth slightly opened as she inhaled deeply. Benson could hear the wheezing with each exhale and he gave her hand a squeeze.

Loghan held her head in her one hand, feeling it throb against her palm. Each fit just heightened the migraine that had now settled deep into her temples. The bright lights of the waiting room were not helping either.

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” Benson said, though his foot was tapping impatiently.

Loghan nodded slowly, wincing against the raw aching of her ravaged throat. It felt like she had swallowed red-hot knives, and the blood-specked tissues were proof. She coughed lightly, which brought on more rough, barking cough that had her doubling over. She cried out in pain between the coughs, letting tears fall at the burning, shooting pain spread across her ribs. Benson moved the heel of his hand in tight circles between her shoulder blades, still holding her hand tightly with his other one.

Finally, the nurse appeared, calling Loghan’s name. Loghan took in a gulp of air, finishing off the fit with a glop of phlegm she hacked into the tissue. Benson helped her stand, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her legs were shaking, and she wasn’t so sure about walking.

“Hold on,” She put a hand on Benson’s chest, her legs trembling with the effort of staying upright.

The nurse came over to where they were standing. “Should I get a wheelchair?”

In response, Loghan’s knees buckled. Benson caught her, letting her put all her weight on him.

“I think that would be a good idea,” He responded, helping Loghan sit back down in the armchair. She leaned forward, holding her head in both hands, taking deep, shaky breaths through her mouth.

The nurse retrieved a chair, and she helped Benson get Loghan settled in it.

Being in a wheelchair was not something she would ever have agreed to, but at this point, she was so damn exhausted. She could feel her lungs crapping out on her, protesting every breath being forced into her chest. They spasmed with each inhale, causing her to whimper.

The nurse decided against x-rays at this point, and escorted them to a room instead. Benson helped Loghan stand, who at this point was worryingly quiet.

A tourniquet was strapped onto her arm, and the nurse started to poke her arm in an attempt to find a vein.

“She’s dehydrated,” the nurse stated, pulling Loghan’s arm off the bed so it was hanging in a dependent position.

“She hasn’t really drunk much,” Benson said, thinking back to the night before. Loghan had only taken small sips of her Gatorade, and it was mostly full when he had gotten home.

The nurse stuck the needle in, making Loghan flinch, but she didn’t hit a vein. She tried again on a different site, but missed again.

Frustrated, Loghan started to cry. “I’m so tired of this,” She whined, lifting her free hand to cover her eyes.

“I’m sorry, honey,” the nurse apologized, already cleansing the third spot she was going to attempt.

“Not you,” Loghan corrected, shaking her head vigorously. “All of this. God, I’m so stupid!”

“Hey,” Benson grabbed her hand, turned her chin to look at him. “You’re not stupid, okay? But you’re stubborn as a bull.”

Loghan scoffed, turning her head to cough into her shoulder.

“I’m serious,” Benson continued. “If you had just stayed home, you would probably be okay. But you didn’t, and now we have to deal with this.”

Loghan stayed silent. Benson wiped away her tears with his thumb, giving her a small smile.

“I love you. I’m here for you and you are going to be just fine.”

Loghan grabbed his hand, keeping it pressed against her face. “I love you,” She told him, tears glistening on her cheek.

He leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. Neither of them noticed the nurse had already gotten the IV in, hanging a bag of saline to start running.

Within the next hour, radiology came in to x-ray her chest. The nurse brought in some pain pills to help with the aching in her ribs and soon, Loghan was drifting off to sleep.

She didn’t get to rest long, though, before the physician was coming in.

“Hello, Ms. Farren,” He greeted her, giving a nod to Benson. “How we doing?”

Loghan shrugged, still feeling groggy.

“Obviously not tip-top or we wouldn’t be here, huh?” The physician chuckled to himself.

Benson straightened up from where he was sitting next to her bed. “What did the scans show?” He asked.

The physician, Dr. Marlow, clicked on the computer he had wheeled in with him. He brought up the scans and turned the screen to show them.

“Here,” he said, pointing. “You can see where you fractured ribs 3 and 4. It’s painful, yes, but not serious. They should heal on their own.”

He moved his pen in circles over another area of the scan. “You have fluid in your lungs, probably caused by the pertussis you came in for last week. It’s developed into pneumonia, pretty rapidly by the sound of it.”

Benson nodded. “She was just fine yesterday morning, but when I got home, she had a fever and sounded like this.”

“It can come on suddenly and it’s very dangerous.” Dr. Marlow agreed, turning the computer back towards himself.

“Do you think being out in this weather could have brought it on?” Benson asked.

Loghan glared at him. He ignored her.

“What do you mean?” Dr. Marlow looked at Benson over his glasses.

“Well,” Benson sighed. “She has been staying at my place while she recovers, because she lives alone on campus. She decided, without telling me, to leave while I was at school, and retrieve some personal belongings from her dorm.”

Loghan crossed her arms and let out a huff. Just leave it to Benson to rat her out.

“Now, mind you, she takes the bus. So here she is, out her in 30 degree weather, her lungs still recovering from whooping cough. Then, to make matters worse, she walks home in the rain.”

“That sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Dr. Marlow concludes. “Your lungs couldn’t handle the weather, Ms. Farren.”

“Obviously,” She chokes out, bringing up the blanket to cover her coughs.

“She was running a temp when I got home. I probably should have taken her in then,” Benson said, letting out a sigh.

“It’s not your fault, son,” Dr. Marlow smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “You both didn’t know how fast this was going to come on.”

Benson nodded, and Loghan noticed his eyes were glistening. She reached out her hand, which he gladly took.

“So what now?” Benson asked, wiping at his nose with his sweater sleeve.

“We’re going to send you home with another antibiotic. I want you to take it along with the one you are taking now,” He started typing on the computer. “I’m also going to write a script from some painkillers to help with the pain from your ribs. Also, continue to use the albuterol inhaler for shortness of breath. Alright?”

“Yes,” Loghan said, her voice officially wrecked from all the hacking.

“And Ms. Farren?”

Loghan looked up.

“Try to avoid walks in the rain, okay?”

She blushed, reaching over to punch Benson in the arm. If only she had any strength left in her.

 

After another trip to the drugstore, they finally walked through the door of the apartment. Loghan changed out of her clothes, damp from sweat and the drizzly weather outside. She pulled on a pair of sweats and one of her over-sized sweaters before shuffling over to the couch.

“If you need to go to class, you can,” Loghan rasped. She pulled three blankets around her shoulders, pulling them tightly around her shaking frame. “I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Benson laughed from the kitchen. He brought over two mugs of tea, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I’m skipping class today. And I’m going to call into work for the weekend. It’s just me, you, Netflix, and these bottles of pills for the next three days.”

She looked at him in surprise. Benson was not the type of worker to call in. Ever.

He must really be worried about her if he was willing to do so. She smiled, despite how shitty she was feeling at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” She sniffed, leaning against him after he sat down. “You don’t have to do that.”

He wrapped his arm around her should, rubbing her arm gently. “I want to. Plus, you have proven to me I can’t leave you alone.”

She laughed, snuggling against his chest. “I love you.”

Benson kissed the top of her head. “I love you too.”

He handed her the mug of tea, propping his feet up on the table. Loghan crossed her legs in front of her, holding the steaming mug in her lap and leaned her head on Benson’s shoulder while she took tiny sips. She hummed as the warm liquid soothed her sore throat.

She finished the tea and within minutes, her eyelids were drooping shut. Benson pulled her against him, letting her lay on his chest. He ran a hand up and down her back while he clicked through the channels on the TV, but he was more preoccupied with listening to her tiny snores.

He couldn’t stand to see her in this condition, but he would nurse her back to health. It didn’t matter how much school or work he missed.

For better or for worse, he would be there for her.

“Get better, my love,” He whispered into her hair, pressing his lips to her hairline.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated :)


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